We Were Made for Each Other
by you'renomysterytome
Summary: Sequel to The Tension and the Terror. AlexMarissa again. Maybe changing into different pairings. We'll see how it goes! R&R please.
1. Default Chapter

Authors Note: This is the sequel to The Tension and the Terror. I just thought I'd start a new story as in book 2 or something like that! To any readers from that I apologise for the delay in getting this up. This is a story which I don't have almost pre written. So updates may be slower. Once again, sorry. School is swamping me, what can I say? Anyways. Read and Review. I LIKE reviews. (they encourage fast updating!)

Alex had lied. She wasn't leaving town. But she knew if she saw Marissa every day she wouldn't be able to cope, and she didn't want to make it any harder for the girl. So she paid 2 months ahead on the flat's rent and moved across town. Not that Newport was that big, but with Marissa in school, and her not being one to venture to the "shadier" areas if you could call them shady, she knew that they wouldn't be seeing each other for a while at least. _And god does it hurt. So much more than I'd ever imagined._

Slamming the front door of her new apartment she flopped onto the floor. She was starting to regret leaving Marissa the couch. Come to think of it, she was starting to regret leaving Marissa full stop.

_Oh who am I kidding? Not a single minute has passed without me regretting it._

But it was for the best. It was, wasn't it? Definitely it was. Still there was that nagging voice in the back of her head that was telling her it wasn't. That it wasn't good to leave the girl of your dreams and spend the rest of your life struggling to get over her. That drinking a bottle of whiskey every night just so you could fall asleep before the sobbing overtook you wasn't good either. She shoved it back.

Alex had been gone 3 days, and Marissa didn't know how much longer she could force her body to keep breathing. _Why did I just say goodbye? Why did I let her go?_

Marissa sat down on the edge of her bed. Her clock flashing in the dark. 3am and she couldn't sleep. She'd tried her usual bottle of vodka but nothing helped. Every time her eyes would flicker shut she found herself replaying that last conversation over and over again. That last kiss. _I can't think about this right now. But what if there's only one person out there for us. What if she's mine, maybe, we were made for each other. And I lost her. I let her go. _

Marissa hit her clock off the bedside table angrily. _No, she was the one who broke up with me. She's the one who ended it. _

It was 3 months since she the last kiss and Alex sat in the grungy bar and sipped her beer. This was routine now, working behind the counter half the night, then drinking on the other side for the other half. Sometimes she'd pick up a girl and bring them home. But it never made her feel better. It was always her that she felt, and her that she kissed. Never them. In the morning, she would let them get up and leave quietly before rushing to the shower to try and scrub the feel of their hands off her body.

Alex jumped when she felt a heavy hand squeeze her shoulder.

"Hey there stranger, long time no see eh?"

"Ryan?"

"That's me."

"What are you doing her?" Alex asked in surprise pulling him into the booth opposite her. She was just pleased to see a friendly face again, even if it was Ryan. _And hey remember, he never did anything to encourage her feelings, and he's the only one who understood you there. We're more alike than we'd like to think. Wait, does this mean, Marissa's type is…oh no Alex, don't go there._

"I come to get back to my roots every so often" Ryan answered snapping her out of thought,

"It wouldn't do to have me getting too Newport Beach now," Ryan chuckled, waving at a barman to get them another round of beer.

Alex laughed and relaxed. It felt good to be able to talk. So she did.

It was nearly 4am when the barman ushered them out telling her in no uncertain terms that employee or not, 4am was closing time. Alex sat down on the sidewalk, Ryan dropping down next to her. She giggled and pushed at his shoulder. _Woah, I'm well and truly drunk now. _But this was different from her JD numb drunk. This was the old drunk, the drunk with a friend when you got giggly and hyper and it was fun again. It was fun to be young and drunk and sitting on a curb at 4am with someone you were getting to know. She had almost forgotten what fun was.

Ryan fell sideways at her push and found his face next to the tarmac. Laughing a little bit on the hysterical side he pushed himself upright again. He had forgotten how this felt. Getting drunk and falling around the place, just laughing and having a good time. Sure he had got drunk with Seth on occasion. But even around Seth, who he loved like a brother, he wasn't relaxed. Well sure he was relaxed, but he wasn't carefree and he certainly didn't want to remind them of where he was from by acting like a chino drunk. In Newport, drunks were still sociable, stylish and rich. In chino, and here, right now, drunks were just fooling around on the sidewalk and having fun.

"Whatcha thinking about broody boy?" Alex swung her head around to face him,

"Being drunk, having fun. You." Ryan shot back.

"Oh, me?" Alex's eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Well yeah, um. You know." Ryan gave her a look.

" That I do Ryan."

"You do what?"

"I do know."

Ryan laughed. The drink made him talkative, which suited him just fine. Where some people thought he was doing a broody sinister chino thing, in all honesty he was just shy. Grabbing Alex's arm he pulled her upright.

"Let's go to the beach."

"What? Why? It's all the way across town!" Alex protested.

"So?"

"How will we get there? We're too drunk to drive."

Ryan flashed her a grin, a mischievous glint in his eye,

"I got money for a cab. And I want to go for a swim."

Laughing he ran down the road to hail a cab. Alex slowly walked after him chuckling to herself. This was definitely fun. God had she missed fun.


	2. The stranger next to me

Authors note: Hello again. So I have an update for you all finally. As for who is going to have what relationships in this, well you're just going to have to trust my judgement aren't you and see where it goes. Don't you trust me? ;p

Please review as usual!

2 weeks later and Ryan and she had become firm friends. He loved the bar, she knew. It wasn't fancy and it wasn't Newport at all, and that was why he drank there. It reminded him of who he was, and what he had left. She wondered if it reminded him how lucky he was, or if it made him miss it.

Later that night they sat in Alex's now furnished flat and played play station.

"Do you miss it?" Ryan paused at Alex's question before putting down the controller and turning to face her.

"Sometimes," It was the truth, sometimes, he did miss it. But usually he remembered the bad and suddenly didn't miss it anymore. It was his turn now though, she'd asked a personal question, he had answered. This took it to the next level. The more than drinking buddies level.

"Do you miss her?" Ryan focused his gaze on her eyes as he asked. He couldn't miss the flash of pain that crossed across her face.

"Sometimes." Alex paused and took a deep breath.

"Not sometimes, all the time. I miss her like you'd miss a leg if you lost it. I miss her so much, it hurts to drag myself through each day. Except for this, when you're here, I can forget, or at least, not need to forget."

Ryan sensed this was as far as it was going to go. She couldn't be pushed. He knew well enough that after saying something like that, all that was needed was quiet acceptance. He picked up his controller again and continued the game. Alex relaxed, and retrieving her own controller lost herself once more in the playstation's world.

Ryan understood not talking. It was something he did very often. Around people he was comfortable with, it was comforting to not have to talk. Among people he wasn't comfortable with, it kept him safe.

Alex understood not talking too. Though had almost forgotten it. From Seth to Marissa, both had an inexplicable urge to detail every aspect of life with words. Seth had been insane in that respect. But it was an endearing form of constant babble that streamed from his mouth. Ryan however, was quiet. He was took the subtle hints and he understood them. Ryan, was like her.

Marissa called Ryan for the 6th time that day. Yet again there was no answer. _He always answers for me. He has to, he's Ryan. _Slamming the phone shut again she leant against the railing. She was at the pier again, somehow it was always here that she wandered to be alone with her thoughts. It was always here she came when she wanted to think of her. She would stare out to sea and watch the gulls wheel and dip in the air.

_They always look so graceful, but so lonely. If I could just, fly away with them, cliché as it sounds, maybe I would be able to forget her. With the wind in my face, maybe I could forget the smell of her, and her smiles. Maybe I could forget us._

Marissa was sick of being depressed. She was sick of being heartbroken. After all, it was Alex who had left her. Alex who had driven away from what they had. Perhaps it was better this way.

Ryan sat on a barstool and listened to the band. He was starting to think he could like this whole live music thing. The very mention of the idea had sparked Alex off into a rant about indie culture and emo before she ran off to find him at least 10 cd's he HAD to listen to. To hear her talk you would think that to not have heard them already was some form of death. He supposed, for her, it was.

A voice came from beside him.

"Hey, broodmeister. What are you thinking?" Ryan laughed at the nickname, he didn't brood around Alex, in fact, the opposite, but still the name stuck.

"I was thinking, that I'm not the one who's been brooding lately" Ryan immediately cursed himself for bringing up such a sensitive topic. To his surprise, Alex laughed bitterly and spoke.

"I just, I do miss her."

"I'm not enough for you?" Ryan laughed, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"God no, but hey, if you started to like good music, and maybe changed a few things here and there….and oh who am I kidding!" Alex laughed as she playfully punched Ryan in the shoulder. Instinctively he reached out, his hand folding over hers with ease.

Alex froze. Ryan's hand. Was on her hand. Ryan's hand. The hand of Ryan, ex boyfriend of her ex girlfriend and reason why that girlfriend was ex. By all rights she should be freaking out right now. She wasn't, she was just frozen.

Ryan saw Alex tense up as his hand covered hers. What was he doing? This was Alex, and it wasn't even like it meant anything, all he'd done was grab her hand. That's what friends do. Ryan released his grasp and laughed, his nerves giving it a slightly harder edge than he'd been going for. Alex unfroze and relaxed.

The band had finished long ago and Ryan was walking Alex home before heading back to the Cohens'. As they reached her door and he turned to leave a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Before he realised what was happening Alex had pulled him into a tight hug. Bewildered now he wrapped his arms around her, one hand patting her back awkwardly, the other finding no other place to rest but the back of her head. _Soft hair, and she smells good too. _

"Thankyou" The words came out as a whisper, breath causing his hair to stand up as she put her mouth close to his ear.

"For being here, for hanging out with me, for, you know, understanding."

Ryan couldn't think of any response just then, so all he did was lightly stroke her hair and match his breathing to hers. Abruptly, Alex let go, and pulled back towards her open door.

"I guess you better get going then."

"I guess." Ryan lifted a hand in a small goodbye gesture before turning towards his car.


	3. We lost ourselves

_Authors Note : Hmm, so there has been a strange lack of reviews lately. pointed cough. Anyway, I'm hoping nobody has decided to boycott this story because they think it's ryan/alex. I can tell you know, it most certainly isn't. There were a few things that needed to be cleared up between those two though, hence the whole ryan alex bit going on. So I'm on holidays soon, hopefully I'll write a bit faster then. Please do review, no reviewing is making me sad. _

Marissa was drinking again. Falling back into her old routine had been more than easy, it had been mindless. An endless circle of school, drinking and crashing on her bed before having to pry her eyes open and face another day without the girl she had loved and lost.

She drank until she became so disorientated that she was close to forgetting her own name. Still she could never seem to forget that one name. Like a stuck record thats repetition has become so incessant that it gradually seeps into your head until you keep hearing it, even though it has stopped playing long ago.

Only then was her consciousness so scattered that she could imagine that the wind in her hair really was the hands that she longed for. Skin softened by washing glasses and polishing counter tops, nail varnish chipped, proof of a long day and not enough time to get a manicure regularly. Hands that smelt of wood polish and an underlying scent of alcohol but mostly smelt of her. Smelt of safety and home, and promised arms wrapped around her and peace. Hands so unlike her own.

But then it would be gone, and the familiar bitter vodka would burn in her throat. Though she knew every contour of those hands she could never force her mind to conjure them up once again. It was then that she drank to pass out.

"Alex" Marissa woke with a start, gasping out the name as her hangover hit her. Feeling her hands grasp automatically at the empty sheets next to her she angrily snapped her arms back to her side. It was only ghosts she lay beside now. And the problem with ghosts was that they weren't Alex.

Marissa had been doing a lot of thinking. Lately she had found herself simply folding to the floor, lost in "what if" and in what should have been. After a great deal of introspection she had come to a conclusion. She needed to prove to Alex that she loved her and only her. It wasn't until she was gone that Marissa had realised this. She had even thought she loved Ryan still. But the all consuming thoughts of her that had wracked Marissa's mind since Alex's departure had shown her that perhaps with Ryan, she had simply needed a protector. A white knight. As hard as it was to admit it to herself, she had used him. It wasn't only Alex who deserved an apology.

Ryan was sitting in his car. Well actually he wasn't sure if you could call it sitting. His head was pressed against the steering wheel, eyes screwed shut tightly. He just couldn't deal with this right now he knew. It's amazing, he thought, you take so long to realise something, and then wait forever for the other person to realise it too, and the waiting stretches so far and is so hard that when they finally admit what you've been dying to scream at them all this time, it just numbs you. Overwhelms you. Too much waiting is a bad bad thing. Forget about the anticipation making things better. It just makes them harder.

Alex swung her arms happily in the Californian sun. She had a job, it was a beautiful day, and she had a friend now. Smiling broadly when she saw Ryan's car parked outside the flat her expression quickly turned to one of concern when she say the boy's posture. Alex walked over to the car.

Ryan felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. He started, tensing up nervously.

"Hey, it's only me big guy."

Ryan sighed with relief. Only Alex. Alex he could handle. Looking up hesitantly he managed to mumble out a "Hi".

Sensing his discomfit Alex opened the car door and helped him out. Bringing him round to the passenger side she sat him down before sitting behind the wheel and turning the car on.

"Let's go for a drive"

They drove for over an hour. Down the beach front and heading out towards LA. They were on the freeway when Ryan found it in him to talk.

"She called. She apologised."

"Oh." Alex didn't have to ask who. In fact, it was better not to say her name, not to hear it.

"I waited so long. And now I don't know how to react." Ryan stared fixedly out the window, not wanting to have to look at Alex. Not really wanting to confide, but needing to.

Alex didn't say anything to that. What was there to say really. Instead she put out her hand and rested it on his arm. It took a few minutes before Ryan would continue, a few minutes and a few more exits passing on the freeway.

"Before, I needed that trust. That belief. Because at home, I had never had that. That's what the Cohens' gave me. And when she couldn't give it to me, I was terrified. Terrified that only the Cohens would ever trust me. Only they would give me a chance, and I would disappoint them because I couldn't get anyone else to believe in me." Ryan took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to say that. He'd meant to say something about being fine, and just shocked. Not about his innermost feelings. Goddamnit anyway.

"It's not only the Cohens. I trust you, I believe in you. And now Mar-.._she _has realised that she was wrong and she believes in you now."

"That's the problem. For months I thought this was all I needed to hear. Now I've heard it, it hasn't affected me like I wanted it to. Now, I realise, I never needed it." Ryan sighed, and it finally sunk in that her hand was still on his arm.

"Alex, pull over."

"Um ok. Give me a sec to find a garage, we _are _on the freeway Ryan."

The car pulled to a stop under the neon lights of a garage soon enough.

"So why are we stopping?" Alex turned to look questioningly at Ryan.

"So I can talk to you. Properly."

"So what did you want to talk about?" Alex was getting worried.

"You still love her don't you?"

"what? Ryan, why are you asking me that?" Alex became flustered, eyes flicking everywhere except at Ryan's face.

"Because, you helped me, and now I need to help you. You've been my friend when I couldn't talk to anyone else, you listened and you understood. Look. I've seen how nervous me hugging you, or touching you makes you. I don't know why, I can only assume it's because you're scared I want something more than friendship. Maybe, if the circumstances were different, I would. But I don't. I know you love her, and I know she loves you. I also know, I might have had more than a little to do with this breakup. So now I need to fix whatever it is I did that made you break up." Ryan's eyes were fixed on Alex's face. It was a lot to have said for the non talking type, and he was pretty sure there was a reason why he didn't like talking in the first place.

"I..Ryan." Alex felt tears welling up behind her eyelids. She couldn't speak, she knew, she'd cry. She just needed to sit here for a little. Get over the tears, because she wouldn't cry. The sudden feel of strong arms around her caught her off guard. Ryan reached over from his seat and swept her into a hug. He didn't know how else to treat her at this point. She was almost crying for god's sake. Responding to the hug Alex felt her will break, and Ryan felt the hot tears seeping through his t shirt as she sobbed into his shoulder.


	4. This could be a brand new start

**Be Still My Heart, This Could Be A Brand New Start**

You saw her from a distance, too far for most to be able to distinguish her, but you could. You always could. Something about the way she moved, confident and graceful. Drawing your eyes to her, because you know, you could never keep them off her. At first you weren't so sure it really was her, she had been gone too long, and your grief was still raw within. Still a pulsating ache in the area that you supposed your heart would be, if it didn't feel like it had been ripped from your chest with that last whispered word, that last kiss. So when you saw her and the heart you didn't realise you still had jumped into your throat, you told yourself it wasn't her. That you were seeing things. Because lately, you had been. Lately, every face that swam into view through the tears and alcohol was hers. It always had been.

Maybe that was why when the figure you couldn't bear to give a name, just in case you were wrong again, when it got near enough to distinguish the features and you realised it really was her that you froze. It was that which prompted an echo of hesitation from her. Even still, you couldn't name her. Couldn't voice the name that had been swimming through your head for the past weeks. Just in case. Because who was to say this wasn't a dream too? You certainly couldn't, it was hard for you to say anything for certain anymore, anything but "I love her" and " I miss her".

So perhaps, when the moment finally came, and she stood before you, that was why you didn't touch her, and didn't speak. Scared to shatter the fragile dream world your mind had conjured before you. Feeling, that if you reached out and touched her, she would dissolve. Flow back into the wind, back into the sand that seeped between your toes. Even now, you still don't know quite what you thought. To tell the truth, you don't even know if you thought at all, not rationally at least. More a series of ohpleasegodletitbeher or some variation on that theme. And when she was standing there, eyes glistening with tears and biting her lip the same way she always did, looking larger than life and oh so touchable, all you could see were flashes of memory. An image of her hair splayed over the pillow next to you, cascading across your arm where it circled her head. And you remember, vividly, the smell and the touch of it, the contrast of blonde silk on your tanned skin. You remember thinking, that you were touched by heaven in that moment, the gods had nothing on this, on her. Your personal angel.

And that was why the first thing you managed to stutter as you lost yourself in her blue eyes, was "angel".

Because then, you knew for sure that she was real, that she was there, and that she had come back to you. And that was the only way you could think to say hello, that was the only way you could greet her, the only word that promised never to let her go.

She stood there for a moment shocked, before her face softened with understanding. She always understood, maybe that was why you were so in love with her. Then she touched your cheek, fingertips grazing softly over trembling skin and your world exploded. It took every piece of will power, and some that you didn't know you had not to sweep her into your arms right then and never let go. But you had to know, why she came back, what had changed. Your heart thumped, alive again and nearly bursting with emotion, still, you didn't say anything else. It was her move.

"Marissa, I.."

She trailed off, biting her lip again, making it flush cherry red, and you thought you might have a heart attack right then. Confusion clouded in her eyes and you wanted to touch her, let her know it was ok, that you would listen. A voice inside said not to move, not to speak, let her explain herself, it was her who left you after all. But there's only so much will power one person could have, and your life's supply had just run out. Fingers intertwined in a familiar action that had never felt more extraordinary. For the first time since she left, you smiled and meant it.

"I spoke to Ryan."

Doubt flutters in your mind, what did he say? Oh please let him not have screwed this up, because at this point, when you can't trust yourself, when you can't trust in the two of you, well how can you trust in anything. Even white knight Ryan. But then, with her fingers in the palm of your hand, soft, delicate and vulnerable, you felt the anger coming back. It was her who left. Her who destroyed it all. And no matter how hard you tried to focus on the face in front of you the memory of her walking away from you, saying goodbye to you lingered and replaying again and again, like it has so many times before. You didn't know what to say and so you didn't say anything. Simply untangled your hand from hers in a swift motion. Not smoothly, not gracefully, abrupt and angry.

"Babe, don't"

Hearing her say that snapped you out of it. All of a sudden you were back in reality and Marissa Cooper once again. You knew you would only have one chance at this, but it didn't bother you, because there were things that needed to be said, despite owed apologies.

"Don't call me babe."

Shock and pain registers on her face, as if you had slapped her, and a part of you wished you had. Wished that you had felt the sting in your palm and watched the purple and red bruise her perfect complexion, her perfect face.

"You left me Alex. I gave you everything I had to give and it wasn't enough. You left."

Even then it hurt to hear it out loud again, to give it substance and form in the air around you.

"Marissa, I spoke to Ryan, and he's a good guy. He helped me realise that if it's him you will always have a place for in your heart that's ok. He deserves it and I can live with it. I love you, and I'm not letting you go."

Her eyes burnt with a fervour, or so it seemed, and right then you saw her in your arms again, in love with you. But then the image changed, and once more you heard her say goodbye and turn her back to you. You knew then, that as much as you loved her, you couldn't do it again, you couldn't lose her a second time.

"You left."

"Christ Marissa I know I left, and I'm sorry. I truly am."

She took a step closer grabbing your thin wrist in hers, skin twisting under her fingers. And you pondered breaking those fingers as you felt them there, burning into you skin, marking you. Anger surged again. Anger, pain, frustration and grief, and you shouted at her.

" You fucking LEFT. You left me, I loved you, you were everything. Everything Alex. And you threw it away. Because you were jealous? I didn't do anything to deserve that. Do you know how much it fucking hurt? To watch the one person who understood me, who loved me for who I was and not because I needed saving, to watch that person, to watch you, walk away? It hurt. It hurt so much I didn't think I could breathe, so no Alex, sorry isn't enough this time."

So you stood there, panting, chest heaving from your outburst, so close to her that you could feel her breath on your eyelashes and at that moment, you could swear you hated her.

That was when she walked away for the second time.


	5. Apathy is a terrible thing

You wake up with the smell of stale alcohol curling around your nose and the familiar fuzz of a night's heavy binge on your tongue. The sunlight makes your eyes squint despite your efforts to pry them fully open, and that's when you remember. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You weren't supposed to be lying here, feeling empty and apathetic, as if it was just another dream that you had while you slept another night without her. You swing your legs out the side of the bed with a groan as the sudden move disorientates you. The carpet is soft between your bare toes and you remember the softness of her shirt. Years of wear and washing having leached the colour and roughness from the fibers. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the image you make your stumbling way to the bathroom. Leaning heavily on the cold porcelain sink. Cool and smooth and you think, that that's what your heart must feel like. So many nights hoping for just this, and now, it's wrong. It's all wrong. It was meant to be special, not a drunken fumble in the dark, smell of vodka from her breath and the desperate edge the drink gave you both. You were meant to be swept away by her kisses, not staring over her shoulder and wondering about the crack in the wall. You'd like to say you'd do anything to take it back. Truth is, you wouldn't. It wasn't even important enough to fully regret. It was just, something that happened. It shouldn't have, and it was cheap and demeaning but you let it happen and through the entire thing, you were still partially convinced you were dreaming and that you would wake up in a sweat, staying up the rest of the night rather than go back to that. So as the scalding water of the shower hits your body you wash yourself with a new enthusiasm, imagining the water turning black as it touches you, washing away the mistake. With your head resting on the cold tiles you think, that apathy is a terrible thing.


	6. Perfect

Authors note: block ran away for a little bit, I took advantage and wrote something happy! It's not quite cry for joy happy, but it's enough happy that it can move on from here. Tell me what you think.

Alex sat on her couch staring into space. Whether it was from the hangover or the knowledge of what had happened she felt sick. How could she have let it happen, taken advantage of her like that, or if not taken advantage, consented to it. Blame it on the alchohol, that's what she always did eventually. It had been late, and Alex was already drunk by the time the knock came on her door. Seeing Marissa standing there shivering, tears on her cheeks had almost broken her heart. When Marissa pulled her aggressively into a tight hug and told her she loved her and she missed her and she was sorry all that Alex was able to concentrate on was the heavy warmth of breath on her ear. So it seemed a natural thing to arc her neck under those kisses, and to give in to temptation. But it hadn't been like that, it had been, she hesitated to think it, but it had been cheap and alcohol fuelled, and it had been all wrong.

So she sat there, and she thought about it, and when the door knocked she slumped over towards it, an excuse for her late rent on the tip of her tongue. And when it turned out that the tattooed guy had overnight changed into a girl with long brown hair and huge doe eyes she found that her tongue had tied itself in a knot and her stomach twisted as if in sympathy creating it's own knot.

"Alex, I need to talk to you"

She let the door swing open fully and stood back. Just far enough that Marissa could get past, but not so far away that she could get in easily. Marissa squirmed past her true to form and Alex shut the door with a loud thump. Her head pounded, but it was Marissa here, come back to her, and sober this time, regretful, sober and beautiful as always. She couldn't resist it, she reached out a hand, hesitantly placing it on a slender hip.

"So let's talk," Almost whispered, almost seductive.

"I, last night, I'm sorry I just, it wasn't right Alex." Marissa's eyes filled with confusion and regret, and Alex knew exactly what she meant. She knew what she meant the moment she opened the door to her.

You knew you were right for coming here, for wanting to fix the chasm that had opened between you. Wanting to get rid of the regret, the feeling of being used. You knew because when she looked at you, after your stuttered explanation she leant forward, and this time, it wasn't cheap. It was all those things you thought a kiss would be when you were little. It was fireworks in your head, and tears stinging behind closed eyes from a heady mix of joy and desolation that you could have missed this, and lost this. What was a surprise to you was the moan that escaped the back of your throat, it's sound muffled by her mouth. How this one time, you pushed back, became the aggressor and you pinned her to the wall in a motion that shouldn't have been gentle and loving, but was despite it all. It was all ok then, it was you and her and your tongue tasting her lips and nothing had ever seemed so safe, and so comforting and so perfect. Because when you were together the two of you fitted, and you worked, and together, you could be perfect.


End file.
